


There ain’t nothing wrong (But there ain’t nothing right)

by SquaresAreNotCircles



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coda, Drinking & Talking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Gen, Past Rachel Edwards/Danny "Danno" Williams, Past Steve McGarrett/Catherine Rollins, Post-Episode: s09e18 Ai No I Ka 'Ape He Mane'o No Ko Ka Nuku, lots and lots of talking, very slow consumption of beer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 02:17:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18174521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquaresAreNotCircles/pseuds/SquaresAreNotCircles
Summary: “Hey, by all means.” He grabs the untouched Longboard that the bartender left where it was and slides it over the bar towards Steve, damp napkin that it was served on included. “Look, I even ordered you a beer before I realized you weren’t supposed to be coming.”Steve grins, accepts the offering and taps his full bottle to Danny’s hollower one. “Good thing I came back to take this off your hands, then.”Or: A 9.18 coda and fix-it in which Steve turns up at the hotel bar after Amanda leaves and Steve and Danny have a very necessary talk.





	There ain’t nothing wrong (But there ain’t nothing right)

**Author's Note:**

> Depending on your personal inclination, this could be either a very strong platonic Steve & Danny or pre-confession of romantic feelings Steve/Danny. Which, you know, is a totally valid thing for a fic to be, I think, but made this REALLY hard to tag for, because I also had no clue what else I should be calling this (it’s not fluff, it’s not angst, is it emotional h/c? I went with that, but I’m still not sure), because Steve and Danny basically just… talk. They talk a lot. Is there a tag for that?
> 
> Anyway, 9.18 is the episode where Danny’s ex-mother-in-law, Amanda Savage, comes to Hawaii. Danny and Steve play her bodyguards for the day and she’s pretty much awful to Danny for the entire episode, and at the end she texts him from Steve’s phone to lure him to the hotel bar to “have a talk” about Rachel. 
> 
> This fic touches on a few things I mentioned in my 9.18 Tumblr reaction post, so if you happen to have read that, it’s possible you might recognize some ideas. Additionally, while this is a 9.18 coda, it (briefly) mentions specific events from 5.24, 6.14 and 9.11. It seems fairly unlikely to me that anyone is reading season 9 fic and doesn’t want to get spoiled for anything that happens before that, but just in case, this is your heads up.
> 
> The title is from the lyrics of the song _Tender Moment_ by Lee Roy Parnell.

Danny’s first instinct when he feels a touch to his back is to turn and run. He’ll have to drink himself into a coma if he has to deal with one more minute of Amanda’s cutting attempts at making peace today. Either that, or he’ll start pulling at her curls to see if there really aren’t any horns hidden under there, and no good can come from that, either.

The hand that lingers on his shoulder for a long moment before pulling back is far too heavy to be Amanda’s, though. “Hey Danny,” Steve says. Like Danny, he’s still in his suit from their work today, but despite his suave appearance and the easy touch, he looks guarded, even in the dim lighting of the hotel bar. “Mind if I join you?”

Danny blinks at him, twisted around on his bar stool. He’s only had one glass of Amanda’s preferred expensive champagne and half a Longboard, but his brain can’t entirely make sense of Steve’s presence. It’s stuck on the idea that this must be wishful thinking. “What’re you doing here?” he asks. If he’s talking to an imaginary Steve, at least no one around here knows him. “Your Mandy left maybe ten minutes ago, once she was done ordering me to do right by Rachel.” 

Steve winces at either the nickname or the mentioned topic of conversation, but tough luck. He deserves it. “I’m sorry about that, man. She told me she needed to borrow my phone to contact Rachel about their dinner plans.”

“That sounds like her,” Danny admits. “How did you figure out she lied?”

“I had a hunch, so I checked my outbox when I got home. I texted you to ask if you were still here, but you didn’t respond.”

Danny fumbles to extract his phone from his pants pocket while sitting down. When he finally gets a look at the lock screen, it tells him he has three new texts, all from Steve. “I didn’t respond,” he repeats, still trying to put this together in his head, “so you decided to drive all the way back here to see if I was hanging around?” He doesn’t know why he sounds so skeptical. If deceiving two people at once to make her own life easier is well within Amanda’s usual MO, driving for twenty minutes in the direction he just came from to prevent Danny from potentially drowning himself in the bottom of a bottle is not even a little out of character for Steve.

“Yeah,” Steve says, in a way that implies he agrees that Danny should have seen this coming, somehow. “So can I sit?”

Danny can’t resist patting the stool next to him. Maybe he can brush some Amanda cooties off so Steve’s poor butt doesn’t have to deal with their leering. “Hey, by all means.” He grabs the untouched Longboard that the bartender left where it was and slides it over the bar towards Steve, damp napkin that it was served on included. “Look, I even ordered you a beer before I realized you weren’t supposed to be coming.”

Steve grins, accepts the offering and taps his full bottle to Danny’s hollower one. “Good thing I came back to take this off your hands, then.”

“Oh yes, very thoughtful of you. What would I do without you, huh?”

Without any provocation, Steve’s face clouds over. “Actually, that’s part of why I’m here.”

“What, are you leaving me?” It’s a joke, mostly, but it’s not a very funny joke even while Danny says it. After the battering his ego has taken today, his chest clenches up at just the thought.

“No,” Steve huffs. “Where the hell would I even go?”

Danny bumps his elbow into Steve’s. It’s a good point.

Steve takes his arm off the bar to turn to Danny more fully. He keeps one hand loosely on his beer, but runs the other over his thigh. Danny’s never known Steve to have sweaty palms, because the mighty SEAL doesn’t stoop to such petty human concerns, but it’s a nervous gesture all the same. “What I actually wanted to say was that I’m sorry, Danny. I should’ve stuck up for you more today. I didn’t do my job properly.”

“You were there to be quiet and look pretty,” Danny reminds him. “You did most of that just fine.”

“Sure, but I was also there to be your friend.”

Danny wasn’t aware the day had left a Steve-inflicted bruise on his ego, too, under all the black and blue Amanda caused. Now that Steve has pointed out the spot, it’s suddenly healing, and he feels lighter already. “Buddy, you were just doing me a favor. No reason you had to be miserable along with me.”

“Still,” Steve insists. “I should have listened to you when you told me how bad it was for you. I didn’t get it. I thought you were exaggerating, you know, playing it up.” 

As far as Danny is concerned, Steve has already absolved himself of whatever misdeeds he committed, but he appreciates the tenacity all the same. He tilts his beer bottle and absently taps the butt of it to the shiny bar top. He shredded his own napkin coaster a while ago, in the space between the moment Amanda finally left and Steve’s unexpected arrival, so the sound is sharp and not dulled by the protective layer of tissue paper. “I’ve been known to do that from time to time.”

“It’s not an excuse, but yeah.” Steve’s fingers close around the neck of Danny’s bottle to put an end to the tapping. Danny huffs, but doesn’t fight him on it, because Steve looks like he’s in his _I’m an emotionally stunted person trying very hard to tell you something_ mode, which should be respected. “I’ll do better next time,” Steve promises, letting go of Danny’s beer. “I guess I didn’t fully understand how serious you were until you got up and walked away from Kamekona’s.”

There’s something that Danny _does_ know has been bothering him. “Was that childish?”

Steve immediately starts shaking his head. “No, it really wasn’t. That was very brave.”

Danny scoffs. “Come on, Steve. You’re a Navy SEAL. You’ve seen combat.” He taps the bar again, but with his knuckles this time, for emphasis. “You have how many medals?”

“A few,” Steve says, even though Danny knows it’s more than enough decoration to fill even Steve’s impressive chest. “Which is why you should trust me on this. There are different kinds of bravery, Danny.” 

Steve’s body is curled around his beer now, but he turns his head a little to look Danny in the eye. It’s just dramatic enough that it could have made Danny laugh if he weren’t so completely sucked into it. 

“Yours is one I still struggle with.”

Danny clears his throat and aimlessly looks down at his own beer, because the eye contact is a little too intense. He tries very hard to pretend he’s not getting choked up. “Thank you. That means a lot.” And it does. Verbalizing emotions may not come easy to Steve, but when he tries, he puts an honesty behind it that’s unlike anyone else Danny knows.

There’s silence between them for a second. It’s comfortable, settled. Then Steve says, quieter than before, “She kind of reminded me of Doris.”

That’s not a connection Danny ever would have made on his own, but he can see how Steve might. There are definitely parallels to be drawn in their manipulative behavior and the entitled way they go through life, but certain parts of the comparison make Danny shudder. “Doris never flirted with you like that.” He brings it like a fact, but then he reconsiders and glances at Steve sharply. “Tell me she didn’t.”

Steve physically recoils at the thought, which is about the level of disgust Danny feels, so that’s good. “No, of course she didn’t. She’s crazy, but not like that, Jesus.”

Danny reaches out and bumps Steve’s bicep with a fist, more for the general reassurance of touch – I’m here, I’m with you, I got you – than for the specific gesture. “Hey, I’m proud of you for even being able to admit at all that she might not be entirely sane.”

“Yeah.” Steve shrugs. He looks lost, now that they’re talking about his own problems instead of Danny’s. “I haven’t heard from her in a while again.” 

“That sucks.”

“It’s the usual stuff.” 

“It shouldn’t be,” Danny says. He has a good hope that Steve knows that by now, but it never hurts to call attention to it. 

“No, it shouldn’t,” Steve agrees. “But she’s my mom, you know? Some people can pull all kinds of shit and you still love them.”

Images of Rachel on a bench near a playground come to mind. Her tear-filled eyes keep straying to Charlie and her lips form words that will keep Danny from getting a wink of sleep for what feels like a solid year afterwards. And still, he loves her.

Of course he does. He wouldn’t have put up with Amanda at all if he didn’t. 

“Yes,” he tells Steve. “I know all about that.”

“I guess you do.” Steve gives him a considering once over. 

It leaves Danny feeling oddly warm for this conversation that mostly inspires coldness and despair. But then Steve is always a warm point, always moving, always wearing his heart on his sleeve even if he pretends it’s carefully guarded because he doesn’t know what else to do with it. Maybe that’s why Danny gravitates towards him so much. For a stupidly tall, incredibly dangerous man, there’s something very vulnerable about him that most people either willfully overlook or are simply too blind to see.

While Danny has been contemplating Steve, Steve has been doing the same to Danny. It’s unusual, but nice, how they keep worrying about each other more than themselves. 

“So what are you going to do?” Steve asks.

Danny doesn’t pretend that there’s a need to specify that question. Under normal circumstances he might have, but here, in this Hilton bubble where they’re skirting very close to straightforwardly talking about feelings, it would be an insult to their friendship to act like they’re not reading each other’s minds most of the time. “What I told Amanda I would. Do right by Rachel.”

Steve bobs his head. “Have you figured out yet what that means?”

“I think I have a good idea.”

Steve stays silent, like he expects more.

Danny sighs and gives it to him. “Don’t ever remind me I said this, but Amanda is right that I should make sure I’m not playing with Rachel’s feelings. Even if she deserves it, it would just end up hurting the kids in some way. That’s the one thing I can’t risk.”

“Not ever,” Steve agrees, because somehow, he’s grown to understand even this. He gets it, this _thing_ that Danny previously thought nobody could really grasp unless they’d held a tiny human life that belonged to them in their hands. But maybe that’s the way Steve learned it, too – by waltzing into Danny’s life and claiming everything that belongs to Danny as his own, even Danny’s kids. The thought is an odd one, because Danny is pretty sure it would infuriate him if it were anyone else.

With Steve, he gets mad at everything and nothing, but not this. This, he’s never been anything but grateful for. “Exactly.”

“You need to rise above that,” Steve continues. “Both of you.”

That’s the rub, isn’t it? That’s the impossible question, the one that has no good answers. “I’m not sure we can do that if we give an actual relationship another shot.”

“Then don’t.” When Steve says it, it’s just two small words, but they have a disproportionately big meaning.

“You make it sound so easy.”

Steve’s eyebrows barely move, but they’re nevertheless profoundly eloquent. “Isn’t it? You really want to get back together with her?”

“No, I suppose not. Not really.” He brushes some imaginary lint from his sleeve. If only it were so easy to tidy up his thoughts. “It’s just a hard dream to let go of, you know? It could’ve been good. Once upon a time.”

Steve doesn’t start talking until Danny looks up at him again, searching for a response. Steve’s eyebrows have crept further up, but they’re somehow less questioning now, and speak more of sympathy. “Oh yeah, I know that one, too. Remember that Valentine’s when Lynn found the ring I bought for Catherine because I kept it with my shirts?”

“Not your finest moment.” It was unfortunate, but the thought still makes Danny laugh on occasion. From some angles, it’s a very sad story, but everyone has those. Only Steve would have one that involved his girlfriend finding an engagement ring meant for another woman in his closet, of all places, while he wasn’t even cheating on anyone.

Steve snorts, too. “It really wasn’t. But it was the same basic story. I needed to let go.”

“And did you? Let go of Catherine?”

“It took me a while, but yeah. I think so.”

It sounds nice. Danny would like to believe it, but he’s not sure he does, even if he knows Steve would never knowingly lie to him. “So you’re really over her?” he asks, anyway, fishing for something just under the surface. “I remember some pretty intense conversations between just the two of you in Montana.” Not to mention that Catherine was already there when Danny turned up, which had stung in unexpected ways, but also underscored her position in Steve’s life as someone there to stay, in whatever capacity.

Steve has to turn his Longboard all the way upside down to get the last drops of beer. Danny hadn’t noticed how well they have been working their way through the drinks, but his own is all but gone, too. He briefly considers gesturing to the bartender for two more of the same, but he’d mostly be using it as an excuse to stick around longer, and he can use his empty bottle for that as long as he holds on to it.

Steve puts his own empty back down, folds his hands and frowns at nothing that Danny can discern. Nothing physical, anyway. “I still care about Catherine,” he says, which Danny has a much easier time believing than his previous claims. “I still love her. I just don’t think she’s a necessary part of my happy end anymore, you know?”

Danny gives it a moment of thought. He finds that it sounds about right, and not just for Steve and Catherine. “I do know. That’s very poetic, actually.”

Steve shoots him a grin, dispelling the serious mood. “Thank you.”

“You know, buddy, you and I? We’re surprisingly similar.”

“We match,” Steve agrees easily. “We’re a good pair.”

Danny holds up his Longboard with the last few drops in it. He’ll retroactively toast to that. “Partners.”

“Partners. Always.” Steve solemnly picks up his empty bottle just to clink the neck to Danny’s.

Danny takes this opportunity to finish off his drink. When he puts it down, he catches Steve looking from the bartender to him. He can see some of the same calculations in Steve’s eyes that he did just a little earlier.

“The prices here are ridiculous,” Steve says. “I have beer at my place. Wanna come over?”

Danny’s stomach chooses this moment to audibly make its discontentment known. “Do you have food, too? I haven’t eaten yet.”

“We can order in. That Chinese place we like?”

“Deal.” Danny slides off his bar stool with a groan. He’s been sitting hunched over for too long, which his back doesn’t appreciate after a full day of standing around and carrying too many shopping bags. When he reaches for his wallet, Steve stops him with a light hand on his arm.

“I’ve got it, old man.” 

Danny watches in overdrawn wonder as Steve opens his own wallet and pulls out enough bills to cover the two beers, the champagne he must have deduced from the empty glasses, and a nice tip. It’s surprising enough that Danny is even willing to let go of the age-related insult, despite the fact that those are some of his favorite to contest because he and Steve are the same age. “What’s happening?” he asks, playing at complete perplexity. “Is this part of your guilt complex over today? What else can I get you to pay for if I leverage this the right way?” 

Steve levels him with a look while he hides his seldomly seen money away again, but it’s pretty obvious from his face that this is the exact reaction he was going for. “Don’t get excited. I’m just doing this to pressure you into paying for dinner.”

“Ah, there’s the McScrooge I love to criticize.”

“I aim to please,” Steve says, which is a huge fucking lie, but fun as far as witty responses go.

They fall into step next to each other the way they do so easily, even though by all means they shouldn’t, because their height difference is ridiculous. As they weave their way out of the Hilton bar and through the main lobby of the hotel, they pass a poster announcing the book signing from this afternoon that fans will now need a time machine to attend.

“Amanda Savage,” Steve reads aloud. “That’s not her real name, is it?”

The laugh that startles out of Danny is so bad he almost runs into a very slow guy in a Hawaiian shirt lugging a huge suitcase. He dodges just in time, coming back to Steve’s side to end up in the same quarter of the revolving door with him. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I doubt it, but it’s not like she’d ever tell me if she changed it, and Rachel’s lips were sealed the entire time that we were married.”

Steve bumps into his shoulder as they step out into the warm Hawaiian night. “We should get Jerry on that. Give you something to hold over her head next time she comes to visit.”

“Don’t even joke about a next time, Steve.”

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” Steve almost drawls. It’s a lot like the stuff he’s been saying all day, but this time he amplifies it so much that it’s like he’s mocking himself, which takes all the sting out of it. “You survived, didn’t you?”

“Your standards need some adjusting.” Danny gets his wallet out while walking to retrieve the valet ticket, which he tucked away in there. “Did you bring the truck?”

“Yeah, but I parked it a few blocks away. It can stay there overnight if necessary.” 

“Good,” Danny reluctantly admits. He’s had enough to drink that he’d rather have Steve behind the wheel, even though after nine years the jury is still out on if that is actually ever the safer option. “Anyway,” he goes on, distracting himself as much as Steve, “‘you survived’ is easy for you to say. At least you got a decent pair of cufflinks out of it.”

“I didn’t, actually.” Steve gives a kind of shrug while walking, which doesn’t look half as casual as he probably wants it to. “I gave them back after you left us at the shrimp truck and I dropped her off at her room. I told her I couldn’t accept a gift like that after all.”

Danny doesn’t have to ask Steve if he did that for him, so he doesn’t, because it would make things awkward. Instead he just enjoys the mental image of Amanda having one of her stupid, over the top attempts to buy loyalty refused. “How did she take that?”

They’ve reached the valet parking stand, so Steve holds off on his reply for Danny to hand their ticket over to the head valet. They move to the curb to wait, which is when Steve speaks up again.

“She asked to borrow my phone and texted you under my name. I’m not sure what that means.”

Danny isn’t either, but he does know how to tease Steve about it. “Better check your outbox again to make sure she didn’t text anyone else.”

“Like how?” Steve asks. He hasn’t reached for his phone yet, so he can’t be too worried.

“I don’t know. She could have lured any number of people to bars under your name.”

Rather than apprehensive in any way, Steve looks amused by that. “Are you saying she catfished you?”

“She did, basically.” 

“Could have her arrested for that,” Steve says, and God, sometimes Steve’s brain is beautiful. It’s a pipe dream, obviously, but the concept is glorious. Amanda, behind bars, making some prison director’s life miserable with her endless complaints about the menu in the cafeteria and the lack of glamor in her available wardrobe.

Danny can feel his first real, painless grin of the day take over his face. “Oh yeah, we should definitely bring her up on charges. Impersonating an officer can get you what, five years?”

The sleek black Camaro rolls up in front of them, but Steve ignores it to turn to Danny, eyebrows quirked playfully. “Book her, Danno.”

Sometimes, life’s not so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for reading! It’s been almost three weeks since I posted anything, which weirdly felt like an age after I’d been inhumanly productive for a while, but it’s really good to have finished something again. Hearing your thoughts always makes my day brighter. ❤
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as [itwoodbeprefect](https://itwoodbeprefect.tumblr.com), or with my exclusively H50 (and mostly McDanno) sideblog as [five-wow](https://five-wow.tumblr.com).
> 
> -
> 
> Small fact checking note: I did about five minutes of research and as far as I could find, impersonating a cop is a misdemeanor in Hawaii instead of a felony (which it is in some other states), which (I think) means it would probably only get you a fine, not a prison sentence. I hope that didn’t bother anyone, but hey, this is fiction and they were just kidding around anyway, so I took some liberties.
> 
> And while I'm at it, on a more serious note, please do not drink and drive. In the fictional H50 universe where Steve never ever crashes cars despite having a horrible grasp of traffic laws, I felt okay letting Steve behind the wheel after one beer because we know he has Main Character Magic that will get everyone home safely, but it's still highly inadvisable in real life, even in places where it's technically legal. Unless there's an unexpected apocalypse and you suddenly find yourself needing to escape a horde of zombies after having had something to drink (which would count as extenuating circumstances, I think), it's best not to drive after consuming alcohol.


End file.
